


Thranduilsaeded   (Thranduil Lectures)

by palanotar (telemachus), telemachus



Series: Rising-verse [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Mirkwood Elves - Freeform, Thranduil's A+ Parenting, forever is a long time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 07:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13313343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/palanotar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/telemachus/pseuds/telemachus
Summary: Thranduil does his best to pass on his wisdom and skills to Legolas - but in doing so is forced to reflect on his own life....





	1. Legolas Comes of Age

“Legolas, my son, come, sit by me. Take a cup of wine, for today you come of age, and I would speak with you of the history of our Kingdom.”

_Today you come of age. Have I really been alone here so long? I never meant it to be this way. I always thought one of your brothers would be fit to rule by now._

“You have been taught, no doubt, that my Kingdom was founded by my father, your Grandfather, Oropher. Early in the Second Age of the Sun, he came East, seeking a land where as Sindarin elves we could be free of the interference of the Noldor, or of any other people.”

_Drink your wine, my son. I know you are not listening – you never listen, but, when I do not look straight at you, when I allow my gaze to wander, for all that they say you look like me, your way of holding yourself, your movements, are so like hers that for a short while I feel not so alone._

“For the glory that was Thingol’s Doriath had been destroyed. Sacked twice in evil circumstance, first by the grasping greed of the Naugrim, and second by the treacherous sons of Feanor.” 

“Ah, Doriath, Doriath. Most wondrous land in Beleriand. There Thingol rightly kept aloof from the troubles brought back from Arda by Morgoth and the Noldor. There was my father born in the days before the sun, and I too, although this was later. Doriath was long protected by the girdle of Melian, most fair of Queens, and the caves of Menegroth were fabulous to behold. Our own great palaces here are but a pale shadow of a memory of the wonders of Menegroth, for Thingol hired the Dwarves of Nogord and Belegost to aid in the building, before they betrayed and murdered him, and I would not trust any Naug with the secrets of my fortress and treasury.”

_Are you listening to any of this? I have heard you have a worrying tendency to listen to news of other lands. To ask of other races._

“Never trust any who are not of our own people. Never, my son.” 

“So, Oropher, after the fall of Morgoth and the remaking of the world, desired not to leave Middle Earth, nor to stay in Lindon, for even though Cirdan the kinsman of Thingol was rebuilding there the Havens and shipyards that had been lost in Falas, he acknowledged the overlordship of Gil-Galad, high king of the Noldor exiles.” 

“I was young and foolish, though it must be said not as young and foolish as you, Legolas, even though you are now of age; and I desired to stay in Lindon, for there was much learning that the Noldor exiles could teach.” 

_Listen to me. Listen to your Ada. I know of other races. I know their faults and I will tell you. You need not make my errors, live through my pain. The world will find you pain of your own, do not doubt it, but I would not watch you needlessly suffer._

“But Oropher my father, and my brothers also, and their followers, came East. Over the Blue Mountains and over the Misty Mountains, and across the wide river Anduin, and found here in Greenwood many Silvan elves, living simply without princes. Glad they were to meet your grandfather, and make him their king, for they knew naught of how best to arrange their lands.”

“Remember, my son, no Silvan can lead, no Silvan can command, no Silvan can rule. They cannot.” 

_For all your faults, you are my son. Your brothers – both lack the trust of our Silvans. You must accept the way things are. One day, you may be king._

_If I die, my people will need you._

_Valar help them._

“So Oropher became king of Greenwood, and ordered things as they should be. A Sindarin kingdom as had been Doriath, free of interference and keeping ourselves apart from the troubles of others.”

“Yes, indeed it is best to have little to do with any outsiders. Apart of course to trade for what we cannot make or grow ourselves. Such as this excellent wine of Dorwinion – Sogo gwin, Legolas!”

_Yes, drink your wine Legolas, you never listen to me anyway. Drink your wine that you love like the wood-elf you are, abandoned to my people you have grown too like them. You are truly a simple elf, wine, song, fighting, hunting, dancing and combing are all you care for._

_Lucky you._

_Perhaps in my neglect, I did well by you. I gave you the upbringing your grandfather would have wished for all my sons. Nay, say rather, I ordered you that upbringing – long it is since I held you. Long since your mother left us, and I found I could not bear to hold her likeness in you._

_You needed me not. You had tutors, guards, brothers. I was busy. I was always busy. There was always something more important than facing my pain._

 

_And look at you. So fair. So well-mannered. Hardly giving a sign of how much you resent this time wasted with me. So self-contained, so self-possessed. So cold. So well-hidden behind your mask._

_So like me._

_Yet you look so much like her._

_For a short while, I can lose myself in the past, for a short while I can almost imagine the two of us together again. As we could be, had I the courage to follow, had I one to leave this burden of kingship to._

_Would I then go over the Sea, over the Sea to find my love? I do not know. I always thought I would, always I thought I would learn to live with Noldor again if that was the price to pay for my love’s contented heart. But – there has always been so much to do, none to leave to care for my people – and perhaps that answers the question. If I loved her more, loved my people less, resented the ease of the elves of Valinor less – perhaps I would have gone long ago._


	2. Sparring with Swords

“Legolas, come here my son. It has come to my attention that you need improvement in the skill of swordcraft. Yes, indeed, it was your brother Thorodwar that mentioned to me how abysmally you hold a blade.”

_And for him to say so – what fresh horror am I about to see? Is it possible you are less skilled than he?_

“I gather you have been practicing with him? Here, take this sword, we will spar together, for it is important that you as son of the King can acquit yourself properly with this weapon.”

_I know, I know you are one of our best knife-fighters, an excellent archer. But where is the honour in that? Where is the honour in these stunts I have heard of? No-one remembers a showy fighter with respect._

“Let me see how you hold the hilt. No, not like that. The palm should be here, and these fingers grip here, like this.” 

_Elbereth, this is no child. I have waited too long to begin these lessons. My son, you have spent too much time hunting, you already bear those archer’s callouses – and that means you are already unevenly muscled, ill balanced for sword work. I have been remiss. He will have to work harder to regain the lost time._

“That is better. Now, I draw my sword also, and we will fence.” 

_And I will make no allowances. You may not know it, but your perfect vision should be enough advantage._

“See, already your sword has been sent flying across the glade. Go and retrieve it, and try again. Pay attention to your grip as I showed you.” 

_My son, I thought you were accounted strong, swift, deadly – not so with a sword. And if this is the best you can do, I am doubting the reports of your knife-work._

“You must hold the sword properly to control where it goes, and to keep hold of your weapon is the first rule of winning a battle.”

“Now, come, attack me again. Oh, this is too easy. By Araw Legolas, I had no idea your tutors had been so remiss. Clearly I must take your education in hand personally.” 

_I would not have you die. I would not have your life choke away, drowning in your own blood. I would not see another son depart in agony, eyes begging his Ada to help him. I could have helped him – if I had taught him my skill. If I had been harsher, if I had made him work, if I had been a better father. I will not let you die also._

“Don’t look at me like that. It is for your own good. What we will do is this: As we spar I shall recount further on the history of our people and our Kingdom. You will thus learn twice over.”

“Go and get your sword again.”

“What do you say? What battles have I fought in?” 

_Truly this son never listens._

“Many, and almost all have been grim disasters, even those that were accounted victories.” 

_There was never a battle that was not a grim disaster for many, never one where the only real victors were not the ravens and worms and foul creatures that feast on all flesh._

“Perhaps for your first lesson however, I will tell you of the one battle that brought me gladness, when I met your mother, Calenmiril.”

“It was in Eregion, in the first War against Sauron. Gil-galad had sent me with the force under the command of the peredhel, Elrond, to relieve the siege of Ost-in-Edhil. Glorfindel was there too, but newly returned from over the sea, carried by a ship of the Numenoreans. Indeed, Gil-galad would have chosen better to have given the command to Glorfindel, for Elrond was poor in the arts of generalship, though he had long been high in the favour of the high king.”

“Ost-in-Edhil lay on the brow of a low hill. The enemy had surrounded it, a mixed force of orcs and men. The Eregrim were holding out in their city, concentrating their defence around the Hall of the Mirdain.” 

“Elrond took direct command of our centre, the troops from Mithlond. Glorfindel took the Forlindrim on the right wing, and the left, the Harlindrim, was given to me. Can you see what is wrong with this formation? Yes, indeed, there is no reserve. Why did you parry there? A counterthrust would have been better. Elrond was overconfident.” 

_Rather like you. One right answer and you think you know everything._

“Orcs and men will often flee under Elven arrowstorms, but these had the will of Sauron fortifying them. Regardless, under the orders of Elrond we advanced. My wing began loosing arrows upon the besiegers, as did the right wing. The enemy reorganised themselves to face us. Orcs opposite us and the centre, the wild men opposite our right. Too early, Elrond led our centre in a charge against the orcs. Elrond risked becoming engulfed, and I had no choice but to cease shooting, draw our swords, and also advance forward.” 

“Although we slew many orcs, their numbers were great, and we too risked becoming overwhelmed. Fortunately at that point, many of the Eregrim took their chance to break out, pushing towards the rear of the enemy’s right wing. They were led by a beautiful elf with shining green eyes and flowing blond hair. Her sword danced through the black blood of her foes. Between her troops and mine the orcs were pinioned. Calenmiril I named her as we met.” 

_A name she adopted as her own, my Calenmiril. Ah, I see you would know more of her, more of your mother. I cannot. I cannot speak aloud of what she was to me. One day, please Valar, you will meet your One, and then you will know._

“Elrond was still enmeshed in the centre of the field. Glorfindel’s right wing was still trading arrows with the wild men. Calenmiril and I had only a few moments before some of Sauron’s reserves moved towards us all.” 

_And in those moments – how she riled me. Her disdain for me, her words were such – that within moments we were arguing. Nothing did I say that she could not better, never have I met one so quick with words, so proud. In those moments there was a wager made – so foolish a wager as is rarely made on a battlefield. Whichever of us slayed the most orcs that day would claim a forfeit from the other._

“Sauron himself, I believe, continued to assault the hall of the Mirdain, where Celebrimbor yet held out, defending the nine rings of Men as yet ungiven.” 

“Ill would the tide have turned for us then, for we were overcommitted and the reserves of the enemy were fresh. You see the importance of reserves? Help however, came from a most unlikely quarter. The dwarves of Moria came out of their mines and advanced upon the foe. The enemy reserves ceased to advance upon us, and turned instead to face the dwarves. Well armed were these dwarves, with sharp axes and strong armour. Relieved, we, your mother and I, were able to lead our forces to the rescue of Elrond.” 

“There could be no victory however. In the centre of Ost-in-Edhel, Celebrimbor was slain by Sauron, and the Hall of the Mirdain overrun. Sauron would soon be free to join the battle outside the city. The power of the one ring could not be withstood. Retreat was our only option. No elves were still living within the city, the only survivors were those led by Calenmiril. Our army withdrew to the North, harried by warg riders all the way to Imladris.” 

_And when we arrived there, in safety, well do I remember how we reached to touch each other’s ears, to know the other was safe. Well do I remember looking into her eyes, and knowing the wager was well-lost if she was living. As for the forfeit – I remember paying that – later, when in our love we had bound our souls together. Ah, my son, one day, one day, please the Valar, you will meet your One, and then you will know._

“The dwarves withdrew into their mines, and shut the gates. Elrond remains the only commander of an Elven army that needed to be rescued by dwarves since the battle of unnumbered tears. Do you see now why I despise him?”

“Put up your sword. That is enough for today.” 

_I can be with you no more, child of my Calenmiril, son who rebroke her heart, who tore her from me._

_And I know, I know I am unfair, I know it was not your fault. It was mine. I showed not enough care for her, I allowed you to be born, I hurt her so. But to speak – to think – of those golden times – I cannot bear to turn from the memory and see only you._

_I cannot share my love with any, least of all you. You who knew her not, you who miss her not, you, the son who has ever wished himself away from me, who has never wished to hear of my love, of anything I can tell you._

“Leave my presence, Legolas. I will send for you when I have the patience to begin this tutoring again.”


	3. On Dwarves

“Come Legolas, it is time we practiced your swordcraft again. Take your blade. Come, attack me. I have had words with your swordsmaster. You will find him less patient with your incompetency next time you meet with him.”

_I will not have you die from any lack of skill which I can remedy._

“Today I will also talk on the distasteful subject of Dwarves. Rumour has perhaps reached you of the insult given us by Thror, King under the Mountain?” 

_How not – you are ever keen to hear the tales of at least one of those who accompanied me. Ever you run to hear what he says, ever you believe in him – and for all I know him to be a loyal subject I worry to see you so trusting, so eager to follow._

“Typical of the Naugrim, to demand higher payment after their work has been completed. What work? Jewelcraft. They contracted to deliver some of the diamonds and emeralds that I find beautiful. Ion-nin, what else could one possibly want from dwarves? We have not been able to match their skill since your mother Calenmiril went west. She and her group of Eregrim were truly gifted mirdain, jewelsmiths.” 

_Look at the boy – one would think he had never heard that before. As if he cares. How can he? What does he know or care of my love?_

“You have lost your sword again. Go and pick it up. Do you do this to distract me from our conversation, or are you truly so clumsy?”

_Valar make me patient with him._

“The dwarves have ever been faithless. There are many parallels here with the dwarves of Nogrod who remade the Nauglamir, the necklace of the dwarves, setting in it the Silmaril that Beren and Luthien had prised out of Morgoth’s iron crown. Both treasures were rightly possessed by Thingol, the Elven king of Doriath. I had witnessed myself both the giving of the Silmaril by Beren, and the giving of the Nauglamir by Hurin. His vision of uniting the best craft of both Elves and Dwarves was a great one, and the Dwarves of Nogrod willingly agreed to do the work. Only when it was complete did they claim the whole as their price, and wickedly they slew Thingol when he denied them. Oh evil day that saw the death of one of the eldest of Elves. For afterwards the Queen Melian the Maia vanished out of Middle Earth, and her protection of Doriath was lost.” 

_Has no-one ever taught this elfling history? How does he not know this? Maybe he just never listens._

“Thus it was that the army of Naugrim was able to invade, and Menegroth was sacked. Another bitter battle. Several dwarves I slew that day, as did my father Oropher, but their numbers were too great and we were forced to flee. Even Mablung, that mightiest of Elven warriors who had taught me much, was overwhelmed before the treasury of Thingol.

“Yes, my sword is at your throat. Again. You must learn to parry properly. I do not expect you to be a new Mablung,”

_fortunately_

“but I would not have you die from inability to fight properly. It would reflect badly upon this realm.” 

_And how could I ever face your mother again? For still I wonder if a time may come when I can leave and find her once more._

“At least Thror is of Durin’s line, a different kindred than the dwarves of Nogrod, or I would not have treated with them at all. Even so, they are greedy. And thoughtless. Too deep they delved in Moria, and awoke some unknown evil there. These dwarves of Erebor think themselves fine and powerful now, but they were but refugees when they arrived in this part of the North, some 600 years ago.” 

_But you remember this surely? You know why our Maegsigil, among others, has such a deep distrust of Durin’s folk. You may not like Maegsigil, but I cannot believe you can forgive all the harm and threats of harm that have come from these Naugrim._

“Many of our kin in Lothlorien also fled that awakened evil. A few came here as you know, but most would not risk passing by Dol Guldur, and followed their lord Amroth south to the sea. Galadriel of the Noldor rules there now, although she keeps up a pretence of sharing power with her consort Celeborn. For it is merely a pretence. She has no true love for him, no ability to share power. Rare indeed is it for the Valar to refuse an elf entry of Valinor – yet refuse her they did. She is no sweet lady to trust, however she may choose to appear. Should you ever meet her be polite, but keep your mind and mouth shut, and leave as soon as may be. And don’t mention her hair, she is entirely oversensitive about being mistaken for a Sindar; she gets her blond locks from her Vanyar grandmother apparently.”

_Never have I met a real Vanyar, I wonder what they are like? Surely they cannot all be as bad as Galadriel. Perhaps I will find out one day if I ever cross the sea – but how can I? How can I when I have none to leave here to rule? How can I leave my people?_

“Here I have distracted myself entirely, I wanted to talk to you of Dwarves but have drifted on to the topic of Galadriel, and yet still you have failed to press home any attack. Put up your sword, that is enough for today.

“Remember, Legolas, that Thror is greedy, and foolish, to deny me what is mine. He is driven mad by lust for wealth. I will not go to Erebor again, and risk myself or any of my people there. It will end in ruin, mark my words. Never trust a dwarf.” 

 

.


	4. On the Coming of Smaug

“I warned them this would happen. Did I not say to you, Legolas, that the greed of the Dwarves would end in ruin? For dragons have ever been drawn to hoards of gold, and love foul deeds of cunning evil for their own sake. Smaug the terrible this one is called. What is that you say? Should we prepare our army to assail him? No. It is folly to attack dragons. Many armies have perished in the attempt. Even though Smaug is likely not as great as the dragons of old, Glaurung the father of Dragons, Ancalagon the Black, or even Scatha, I will not risk our folk in the attempt.” 

“Glaurung I never saw, though I heard tell of him, when refugees from the ruin of Nargothrond sought shelter with us in Doriath. Nor did I see any of the other ancient dragons, for we did not go to Gondolin or to the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, and for long the girdle of Melian kept such evil creatures from our borders. Ancalagon the Black I saw from afar, in the sky over Beleriand at the close of the first age, driving back the Valar themselves. Vast beyond imagining he was, and terrible. Eärendil fought him, though, with the aid of the eagles, and for a day and a night we watched them war in the northern sky. Just before dawn, Eärendil slew Ancalagon, and his monstrous body fell upon Thangorodrim, and the coming of the sun heralded the victory of the Valar over Morgoth that day.

“Scatha the Wyrm, though, I know more personally.” 

_How could I forget?_

“It was a springtime in Imladris, some years after Calenmiril and I were married, when we conceived your eldest brother. No, not that dolt Thirthurun, he is just your eldest surviving brother. You should know I speak of Thalion, best of my children.” 

_Oh Thalion, Thalion, dearest firstborn. You were untimely slain. It broke the heart of your mother Calenmiril, and this fool before me could not mend the breach._

“We decided to move from Imladris, to the Greenwood kingdom of my father Oropher. There was no longer anything to keep us in Eriador, and my heart longed to see my father’s kingdom, and Calenmiril wished the child to be born under the trees. Together with some of Calenmiril’s circle of jewelsmiths, and some Sindar soldiers loyal to me as guards, we loaded our possessions onto wains, and taking our leave of Elrond, now lord of Imladris, we set out North, seeking to travel around the Misty Mountains, rather than over the high passes.”

_Fool that I was... But we sought to make a holiday of our journey, a last time together before we had an Elfling in tow. And truly, some of those nights with Calenmiril near the Ettenmoors were worth the cost._

“It was after we had rounded Mount Gundabad, and were at the upper reaches of the Langwell valley, one of the tributaries of the upper Anduin, that Scatha struck. A wyrm, a wingless dragon that is, but with four strong legs, as all dragons have, that can carry him swiftly over short distances at least. We were following a small winding stream downriver, when he appeared over the brow of a hill, and rushed down upon us without warning. Immense he was, longer than our caravan of wains, and we had but instants before he was upon us. Arrows scattered useless off this thick scaly hide. He slew and started to devour several of us, while Calenmiril and I pulled the guards into some semblance of order, and the others fled. We were preparing to charge him, swords drawn, when he looked up from his grim feasting, and laughed at us, open mouthed. We faltered, uncertain whether to press our attack, when one of my guards, a survivor from Nargothrond shouted out a warning - “Dragonfire!” 

“We scattered, and catching up Calenmiril I dived into a pool of the river. She was covered, but half of my head was still in the air when the dragonfire washed over us, burning my face. The pain was indescribable, and I was blinded in my left eye. Our defence was over, we floated down the stream, then fled, gathering up other survivors as best we could, abandoning the wains and the bodies of our comrades to the dragon.

“What is that you ask? How was my face and sight healed so well?”

_He is like a child, looking for happy endings._

“Can you really not know? What you see is not my true face any longer, it is a glamour, an illusion. I am still blind in one eye. See - I will lift the glamour a moment. You recoil!” 

_And I am indeed surprised to find how much it hurts that the child who once sought to comfort me with a toy, who saw nothing more than my sadness, has become this youth as fixated by elven perfection as any Noldor._

“Yet this is what a mere glancing blow from dragonfire will do. Four and a half thousand years is not time enough to heal such wounds. Have you no stomach for the sight of me as I truly am? Then do not come whining to me about aiding the dwarves against a dragon.

“Nor will I aid the dwarves in any other way. For after the attack of Scatha, Calenmiril led us to a settlement of dwarves in those hills, remembering the friendship between elves and dwarves in Eregion. But they shut their gates on us, and would not aid us, and we were left to wander in the wilderness as best we could until we reached the Greenwood. Had it not been for the care of Calenmiril I would have died.” 

_She cared not for my appearance. She would not have had me wear this glamour – and perhaps I would have done better to listen to her._

“No, I will not aid the dwarves fleeing from Erebor in any way. We owe them nothing. We paid our debts, and they deserve no more. They are not elves. They are not our people. They did nothing for which they did not charge when they were strong – they have no charity, no faith, no love in their stunted souls – why then offer them any in their need?

“Now go. I see that my visage horrifies you, and your horror disgusts me. Leave me.”


End file.
